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Thursday, September 18, 2014

What Will We Remember About Westgate?

On Sunday, Kenyans mark a year since the terrible terrorist
attack on the Westgate mall last September. It should be an occasion for
reflection about what went on in the mall, of not just remembering the heroes
and victims but also taking stock of the lessons that we have learnt from the
tragedy. However, if history and current indications are anything to go by, it
looks like becoming another exercise in selective remembrance and myth-making.

An editorial
in the Standard earlier this week urged us to “salute those who risked life and limb” saying all would-be
rescuers who went into the mall that day “meant well”. The paper is right that
there were many unrecognized acts of valour both by police and ordinary
civilians. Many do indeed “bear the scars of battle” and deserve to be
celebrated. It is fitting, therefore, that also this week, President Uhuru
Kenyatta’s wife, Margaret Kenyatta, opened a memorial in Nairobi which features,
according to one
report, “photos and videotaped testimonials of those affected by the
attack, including families of the dead, rescuers who found survivors and saved
their lives, and workers inside the mall who were the last to see and talk to
the victims before the raid started.”

Though I haven’t seen it myself, the reports indicate the exhibition
honours the memory of the victims, the grief of those who lost loved ones, the
many who survived and the many acts of selfless courage that were on display on
that day. It is right and proper that we do so. The best of Kenya was on show
even in places as far removed from the mall as the much-maligned Dadaab refugee
camp where large
numbers of the displaced gathered to donate blood. All these are an indelible
part of the Westgate story and they should have pride of place in the deep
recesses of our hearts.

However, this is not the only story. This week too, saw the
release of a new documentary
on the Westgate tragedy. Done by British film maker, Dan Reed, it is a mash up of
footage from more than 100 CCTV cameras inside the mall and offers quite a
different rendition of events from what we’re been led to believe. While
recognising the valour of the armed civilians and plainclothes police who
helped rescue so many, the documentary claims most of our security forces,
including the much-feted General Service Unit’s Recce Squad, took too long to
mount an assault on the mall and actually played little part in saving lives.
It now appears that many of the accounts we were given were more than a little embellished.

The fact is, it is not only our scar-bearing heroes who have
been forgotten. Sadly, along with the good also came the bad, much of it
courtesy of the bungled response, and the ugly, not just in the form of the unconscionable
looting that went on during and after the attack but also in the continuing
refusal by the government to institute a comprehensive inquiry and to establish
the truth of what went on in that mall for four days. These the Standard
editorial does not mention. Neither is there querying of President Kenyatta’s
satisfaction with what he called
the “the excellent work of our security forces” despite all indications to the
contrary, nor of the state’s subsequent persecution
of the Somali community under the pretext of fighting terror.

As uncomfortable as it is to countenance, we must not forget
the bad and the ugly. It is true that whatever our security agencies got up to
inside the mall pales in significance when compared with the sheer evil
unleashed by the four young gunmen. But it is crucial that we remember it
nonetheless.

Crucial because, as the saying goes, those who do not learn
from history are condemned to repeat it. Excising uncomfortable moments from
our collective memory has only served to pave the way for a repeat of the
tragedies. In the last year, we have seen the same ridiculous responses to
other attacks from the so-called Al-Shabulb incident at JKIA (where the
Inspector General of Police initially tried to convince us that an IED attack
was actually an
exploding light bulb) to Mpeketoni.

Since independence, we have
unfortunately made a habit out of forgetting. The realities of and victims of
colonialism lie forgotten. The violence and corruption of the post-independence
regimes has been swept under the carpet of a false nationalism and the villains
and despot of yesterday are today reborn as national heroes and elder
statesmen.

Our propensity to forget means the
report of the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission, as well as the
40,000 witness testimonies the Commission recorded, continue to gather dust,
the lessons contained in them remaining unlearned.

It has never ceased to amaze me how our national
anniversaries have often served as occasions for forgetting and not
remembrance. They are the occasions of national myth-making and reinforcement
of partial truths; occasions to hide the uncomfortable truth rather than
examine it.

As we saw during the Golden
Jubilee celebrations last December, and with the
historical revisionism that marked the 90th birthday of Daniel
arap Moi, Kenyans have a tendency to play fast and loose with the facts of history.
Inevitably, however, comes a painful collision with reality. The past we try to
run from all too often becomes our future. What Jean de La Fontaine said of
individuals is just as true of nations. “A person often meets his destiny on
the road he took to avoid it.”

So as we approach the anniversary
of the Westgate we would do well to insist on a full remembrance. As Samira
Sawlani tweeted recently, “the ONLY real tribute the Kenyan government can [pay
to the] victims of Westgate is
the truth. Nothing else is enough.”